Lyric of the week
"He's dreaming of a waitress with Maxwell House eyes, marmalade thighs, and scrambled yellow hair. She'd draw heavily upon a viceroy as she wipes the wisps of dish-water blonde from her eyes... rhinestone-studded moniker says 'Irene' as the Texaco beacon burns on."
-Tom Waits (Adlibbed Radio show version of "The Ghosts of Saturday Night")